


Fox Trains Some Shinies (Sort of)

by Shut-Up-Ginger (Chameowmile)



Series: Fox Trains some Shinies [1]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 501st Legion - Freeform, Coruscant Guard, Fox calls everyone cadets even though they're not, Gen, He's trying his best but also he's not, Nobody knows his name because he didn't introduce himself, Soft drinks for everyone, everyone's a brat it's unavoidable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28958550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chameowmile/pseuds/Shut-Up-Ginger
Summary: A lot of troopers get promoted, but when it comes to elite  ranks, some extra training is required.Normally Sergeant Hound handles this, but the man is off on a mission right now, so it's somehow become Fox's responsibility in his place.Even if he's not exactly qualified-- or pleased.
Relationships: Fox/Naps
Series: Fox Trains some Shinies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123994
Comments: 9
Kudos: 65





	Fox Trains Some Shinies (Sort of)

Fox hates shinies. They’re either too meek or _too_ confident, idealistic and vapid, and _so_ clumsy that it hurts.

But spec-op shinies are worse. Because they’re not _real_ shinies. They’re not naive, they’re just stupid.

They’ve served in the war and have been _commended_ for their efforts, earning the approval of their commanders and generals, as well as an opportunity to gain a promotion via some extra training.

Which means they’re not only shiny, they’re full of themselves.

Normally Sergeant Hound handles these affairs, but the frightening tracker is off helping Excelsior company on a search and rescue mission right now, so it’s for some reason fallen onto Fox to handle the situation, and he'd be lying if he knew why.

If anything, Stone should be the next in line for drill instructor, so he senses a _prank_ in the air. But whatever. He’s here now. Ready to whip some _dik’ut’e_ into shape even though his only experience with bootcamp is the time that he spent in it.

It's _fine._

And if he's insufferably tired right now-- well, that just means everyone's going to play this on hard mode (himself included) which he thinks is probably(?) a good thing when it comes to elite training bootcamp. Can't go soft on the shinies. Right?

In other words, he's in a bad mood because this was supposed to be his _sleep_ block, and is absolutely going to take that frustration out on them. A bad situation needs to have _some_ highlights, and if frightening a bunch of idiots isn't that plus, then he doesn't know what is.

Which is why the first thing he does when he steps into the training salle is slam the door against the wall as loudly as he possibly can, and bark,

“ _Cadets at attention_!”

Which results in about as much panic as he'd expected.

Two of the Torrent boys fall off a bench with a painful sounding clatter and some yelps, meanwhile the Mint company trooper shrieks and then pretends like he didn’t-- jumping into the clumsiest parade rest he's ever seen-- while the Decca company kid to his right makes a face like he's been personally struck and already can't deal with this brand of offense. Who knew _noise_ would be their weakness.

And while he _knows_ first impressions aren't always the best, and that his standards for _armor_ care are a little higher than most, he can't help but grimace at how _scratched_ up the Decca kid's plasti is. It looks like he tumbled down a rockslide, and then rubbed dirt into the grooves for good measure, because _paint_ would be way too normal.

But then Fox notices the two in the back corner, and the first has (thankfully) impeccable armor. Thire's promotion prospect, who he thinks used to be a receptionist-- but maybe that was a joke.

And he looks a little...strange. And at first Fox thinks maybe he's been given early access to phase-II armor, which is why it looks unfamiliar, but the closer he squints, the more he realizes the exact opposite is true. Because the armor's not just phase-I, or even Phase-II, , it's phase-0 prototype, with an eery ghoul-expressioned helmet and janky armor plates that somehow look more painful that the gear they _already_ have.

This soldier reacts a little more slowly than the others, watching the chaos ensue with a mask that looks a little too clankery for his liking, and must be hard to see through, before standing and performing a _perfect_ parade rest of his own.

Definitely a Corrie.

And then there's the last trooper. 

Rex’s third because he _always_ gets overzealous with the promotions, staring unresponsively at the back wall like he hasn’t noticed the commotion happening all around him.

Because, it seems, he hasn't. Fox will guess he’s listening to music.

Which is honestly absurd. This is an _elite_ training block, the idiots should have more respect-- or at least more interest in the equipment. Even _Corries_ like to play around with all the weights and gymnastic bars when they're in here.

These guys were all just sitting around.

So yes, maybe he's overreacting, but that's the personality he's already chosen for the day-- so an overreaction is what they're going to get.

He turns to the other two Torrents who have also managed to get into their parade rests, and snaps, "What’s _his_ designation?”

One of them shrugs. _Shrugs_. At _him_! A superior officer asking an entirely reasonable question! But before he can lose his shit about that too, the other one with the handprint on his chest intercepts with an obedient, “CT-5597, Sir!”

Thank the force, they aren't _all_ braindead. “Smart shiny.”

He bristles, but doesn't argue.

Definitely a smart shiny, then.

\--

Fives can’t believe they’re being trained by a _Corrie guard_ . The guy’s a pencil pusher, what the hell does _he_ have to teach them about ARC work? Shouldn't they be getting ditched onto Hoth or something in their underwear? That certainly seems like it'd be more 'special-ops'. 

Rex made this sound more fun.

But also, the _real_ question, why the hell is he so kriffing _scary_?! Even _Colt_ wasn't this scary and he would literally bodyslam anybody who so much as looked at him wrong. This guy's just a little twitchy, like he's about to lose his mind or something. Maybe he's secretly a droid.

He's jolted from his thoughts once Echo answers the question about Jesse, the sergeant nodding, and then stalking over to where their _vod_ like he's about to give him a good throttle. Instead though, he rips the helmet off his head in a movement so swift that it's barely visible when he unfastens all the latches and magnets.

This nearly earns him a panic punch in the process, but he deflects it like an expert. Pinning Jesse's arm against his back, and then flipping him around in his seat so that they're face to face with one another. Or, face to mask. Sarge hasn't actually shown them his face yet.

So, okay, their Corrie sergeant's got some moves. He'll give him that.

Meanwhile Jesse’s music is playing out into the room now, and he's gone impressively red in the face, stammering faintly like he's on the verge of a short circuit.

Which might be possible, his music _is_ pretty embarrassing, as it filters out into the room between Sarge's hands.

It’s his usual Shillian girl-band pop, which the 501st has gotten pretty accustomed to at this stage (much to Ahsoka’s absolute _chagrin)_ , but everybody else in the room is probably a little confused by.

That said, this song’s _totally_ one of Fives’ faves, and he's here for it.

Meanwhile the clone in mint green armor snorts, and it does _not_ go undetected by the sergeant, who rounds on him immediately.

“Maybe you can _both_ listen to music since you find this so funny." He glares back at Jesse then, who somehow seems _more_ terrified than he already was. "CT-5597, share your playlist with your _vod_ please.”

And he looks positively green at the thought of it.

Which is impressive, Kix has definitely embarrassed him in way more spectacular ways than this. 

"I-I'll need my helmet, sir."

"Of course." And then the sergeant proceeds to slam it back onto his head with a snap of the magnets that makes the whole room flinch like undisciplined babies.

Minty, clearly having no self preservation instinct, stammers back, “But sir, we’re running communication drills today. We need our hearing.”

And yeah, he's pretty sure the guy doesn't care. Because he gives the usual ' _there's totally a reason for this punishment even though we all know there isn't lecture'_ , by replying, “Sometimes in the field, comms go down, or the bombs are so loud that you can’t hear anything.” A beat as he glances back at Jesse. “And sometimes you have a _di'kut_ for a teammate who’s too busy listening to music to pay attention to what’s going on. And that means you have to adapt. So tell me, can you adapt?” Another pause as an idea clearly forms, and he decides, “Actually. Why don’t we _all_ turn off our ears for the day? Hm?”

_Ugh_.

Echo seems to agree with that sentiment because he squawks, also clearly lacking self-preservation instincts, “But how are we supposed to know what’s going on if we don’t even have the simulation briefing yet?!”

And the next comeback is absolute _gold_. Also proof that their new sarge is a total _shabuir_ , because to that, he answers, “I suppose it makes _sense_ that you’d be intimidated by a little test, 1409. I’ve heard Domino squad is quite bad at those.” And then he moves on like that wasn’t the _biggest_ burn of the century.

Again, Corrie sergeant's got some moves. Fives isn't even mad. Echo, alternatively, is digging his fingernails into his bicep like he's resisting the urge to challenge the guy to a duel.

Fortunately for his slowly fading patience, Sarge's already turned his attention onto a different man in the room. Who, up until this point, was kind of inconspicuous. Standing wordlessly to minty's right, in unpainted, horribly scuffed armor that makes it look like he was run over by a tank. And maybe he was, if the prosthetic leg is anything to go by.

He's about as young as a clone can get while still being deployable, with dirty blonde hair that's _well_ in need of a re-dye, and a cut too, and some interface goggles like the slicers sometimes wear half hidden in the bird-nest of it all.

And Fives thinks the instructor's gonna go after the haircut, but that's not what happens at all.

“Goggles do not a helmet make, _vod_. Where's the rest of your armor?”

And the kid just stares at him a moment, flicking down the goggles so that they'll do a little focus thing, before he answers, rather flatly, “Darthour.”

“What?”

“It’s a moon, commander. Read about it sometime.” 

And damn, he might be a shiny, but he sure as hell isn't a _shy_ -ny. 

"So order a _replacement_ then!”

Yeah, this sergeant's got his work cut out for him.

Maybe _he's_ shiny too.

\--

The simulation is predictably a hot mess, so Fox doesn’t bother watching them try and complete it, half napping, half favoring his paperwork, and therefore _missing_ the way that they actually figure it out.

He hadn't intended for them to beat it. It was just supposed to piss them off. Because Hound told him to put them all in a bad mood so that they'd be _extra_ off their game when the captains went to wake them up for training at 02:00 tomorrow.

Which is why he's at a bit of a loss when they _do_ finish it, hours ahead of schedule even. Beating the sim on only the second try, and earning themselves a few commissary credits that he forgot were even a part of this program. He's never seen a group so delighted to be told they could buy _soda_. Apparently that's not a thing out in the field, so whatever, he'll let them have it.

But not right now. They have training time left.

He sends them to do some laps on the track while he thinks, trying to decide what would be a big enough punishment to put them all in a bad mood.

Because even as he watches them trot around the track, playfully shoving one another and pantomiming Jesse’s music like this is the most fun they've ever had, he can’t help but think that he made a miscalculation.

Maybe the music is too upbeat.

\--

Echo’s always been good at solving puzzles, regardless of what the _ge'tal_ thinks about Dominos, so Fives isn't really surprised when he nails this problem on the head too. Finding it to be a simple _'look to the people around you_ ' sort of thing, which were pretty much ninety percent of their training back when they _were_ dominoes, since team work was literally the one thing Colt was trying to grind into their skulls.

Which is how they figure out the guy in spooky proto armor is deaf-- and as a result has a closed-captioning system within his helmet that's letting him see the communications as they come in. Telling them where to go, and what to do, so that they don't set off the alarms. He doesn't _tell_ them this at first though, partially because he didn't figure anybody knew sign language, and partially because he thought it would be cheating.

But Echo knows sign language, a-lot of them, in fact, and started checking to see if anyone else in the group knew some signs as well. So, once he got the proto-man's attention-- or as he prefers to be called, _Richard_ \-- the rest was history.

Because if Torrent's taught them anything, it's that there's no such thing as cheating. Just people who didn't plan well enough. 

So from there, he also figured out which signs to use to talk to the other troopers-- since most commanders adopt a system out in the field, even if it isn't standardized. With the mint trooper-- Vixen-- and the scuffed one-- 1407, each knowing different creolized versions of the ones that _he_ knows, so that he could basically serve as the translator for the whole group.

Who knew the simulators on Coruscant gave you _commissary_ credits when you beat them! Getting comped two sodas is by _far_ the most exciting thing that has ever happened to him.

Spectacular first day of ARC training? Boring. Two sodas? Yes please.

The sergeant was clearly not expecting this either, because he had no further drills ready to pawn off on them when they presented their score, instead making them run laps for the rest of the time in their block, because he probably thinks _running_ is the worst thing that an instructor can make their trainees do. 

He doesn't think Corries like running much.

Meanwhile Torrents _love_ it. The morning jog is just about the only time that any of them ever get to catch up with commander Tano these days, and when they're out on new planets, it even doubles as a sight-seeing tour that they otherwise wouldn't get to go on. 

So okay, maybe it's just everybody who _isn't_ a Torrent that hates running. Because Richard gives up half an hour in, and 1407 barely makes it ten laps before his prosthetic starts to hurt and he sits down. Looking to see if the sergeant is gonna come in and scold him, but never actually getting it to happen. Which is why Fives gets the feeling that they're not even being monitored right now. Because there are exactly _two_ kinds of track run. The ones where the instructor is trying to make you miserable by shrieking at you the whole time, and the ones where the instructor is trying to get you out of the way so that they can have some peace and quiet.

Not that that stops them from having a good old Torrent endurance competition to see who can last the longest.

Echo crashes first at two and a half hours in, Jesse goes half an hour later-- and Fives finally gives up when he realizes that it’s 20:27, and that their training block ended nearly half an hour ago. 

Taking advantage of his distraction, Vixen gives one final dash around the track after he's sat down, and somehow wins the Torrent endurance competition that none of them actually knew he was trying to beat them in.

He'll have to buy him a drink later.

Fortunately he's got a credit for that.

Fives pulls off his helmet with a yawn, and the rest soon follow. With Jesse ripping his bucket off in a heartbeat and scrubbing at his eyes.

Vixen, alternatively, waits until the current song ends before he removes his, and then gives their _vod_ a compliment on the playlist.

It’s weird seeing everybody’s faces for the first time. Well, aside from 1407, obviously. And it turns out the rest of them are older.

Vixen only by a _little_ bit, maybe Kix's age, with a diamond tattooed across his left eye, and shortcropped red hair that might be an actual mutation. Meanwhile Richard is like, _ancient._ Maybe even gen one. Not just in prototype armor, but a prototype himself. With gray threading through his slicked back hair, and crows’ feet beginning at the corners of his eyes whenever he smiles. He has no tattoos or notable features, and it's crazy to think that he's just been wasting away behind a _receptionist's_ desk until now.

He's like a rare collectible-- and probably cost about as much-- with mint condition armor too! 

He debates making that joke out loud, but the silence is nice, and they sit for a little while, half asleep, half content, until 1407 finally asks, "Where the hell is that damn commander?”

Which is a good point, even if he wonders why 1407 seems to think 'commander' is an insult, and keeps using it.

Echo, who was falling asleep against Fives' shoulder, blinks back to wakefulness, mumbling, “Maybe he left. Does he really need to excuse us? We _were_ told what our schedule is.”

But Fives isn't quite so convinced. “He’s probably _waiting_ for us to leave so that he can give us a reaming for not listening to his orders."

“ _Or_ he’s waiting to see how long we’ll sit here and mull it over.” Comes Vixen's equally fair retort, which honestly seems more likely since this was just their orientation day.

Echo stiffly stands, and then offers to help Fives up.

He begrudgingly accepts.

Which is how the lot of them find Sarge fast asleep at his monitor. A datapad playing a senate livestream near his still-helmeted head, and a whole heap of flimsi half toppled over like passed out half-way through reading it.

If he weren't snoring, it'd look like an assassination.

Jesse snickers immediately at the sight, and Echo hisses for him to shut up, hurrying them all out of the room just as the twitchy sergeant wakes with a gasp, and _maybe(?)_ sees them.

Not that they wait to find out. At least he can say that they're all _mostly_ pretty good at running.

**Author's Note:**

> I used to have lots of fun with my old short-form series back in the day, so I thought I'd start a new one to soothe my brain while I work on convoluted big projects lol
> 
> So have some Fox, and way too many shinies for his own good


End file.
